


Pride

by popfly



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Gapfillerpalooza, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-07
Updated: 2005-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gapfiller for season two, episode four. Justin is there for Emmett on Pride Weekend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride

Pride was important in varying degrees to everyone, this much Justin knew.

Debbie was in her element, hauling out the boxes of decorations during her dinner shift, ignoring Brian's third request for a water refill while she covered the lamp above their table with a rainbow-striped paper lantern, and crowing about the size of the PFLAG marching group to every customer who mentioned the parade. Justin had thought it endearing, Brian had thought it annoying, and whined so much Justin got up and got the water pitcher himself.

Justin's own mother was getting into things herself, making phone calls from Debbie's kitchen table and helping to organize marchers. She had even called Justin to tell him she bought new shoes for the event. "None of my other shoes were right for marching," she'd said before she had to run to Debbie's to drop off poster paints. Justin had laughed and felt a swelling in his chest when he thought of his mom, his black-flats or loafers mother marching alongside Debbie in her brand new sneakers.

Brian acted like Pride was just a weekend where the number of men he could fuck multiplied exponentially, but he talked about the parade every time he was alone with Justin. Justin knew it had a lot to do with himself, and the fact that it was his first Pride, but either way it was more important to Brian than he'd ever admit.

But Justin thought Pride was most important to Emmett.

Emmett had a lot to be proud of. Justin had thought that from the moment he met him. Emmett wore fuschia and shirts with plastic windows over his chest, and he didn't care if people stared. Emmett pranced and swished and said "fabulous" more than other people used the word "the", and not even snide comments from his friends could stop him. He was the most expressive dancer Justin had ever seen, needing at least three feet of space to move in so he could swing his arms and swivel his hips, and he did it without thought, without worry of what people were going to think. He didn't care if they giggled or whispered behind their hands. He was himself, unapologetically.

As he'd said himself so many times, he'd rather his flame burn bright than be some puny little pilot light.

Justin admired that.

*****

Michael had just finished his little outburst about the parade at the GLC when his cell phone rang. Justin was holding his tired wrist with his left hand, guiding the paint brush over the posterboard, watching Debbie out of the corner of his eye. He was so intent on her crestfallen face that he didn't hear the first part of Michael's conversation. All he caught was the tail end of a sentence.

" ... sorry, but I really can't be there. What about Ted?"

Justin straightened away from the table, dropping his brush into a cup of water and turning to Michael.

"I would say ask Brian, but we both know how that will turn out." Michael had a finger pressed to his ear and his shoulders hunched. "I hate for you to go alone. Do you have to pick up her things from the hospice today?"

Justin's heart sank. Godiva.

He moved forward and touched Michael's arm. Michael turned and grimaced at him, and Justin leaned towards him.

"Godiva?" he whispered. Michael nodded and covered the mouthpiece of the phone.

"She passed away last night. He has to go clean out her room at the hospice."

Justin pressed his lips together and Michael apologized again to Emmett.

Ted was obviously busy, or he'd be the first one to go along with Emmett. Michael had work, he'd already told Debbie, and Brian ... well, like Michael had said, Emmett knew enough not to ask. Brian was a good friend to a point. Spending time at the hospice while Emmett packed up a drag queen's heels and hair? Not something he'd be willing to leave work for.

"Does he need someone to go with him?"

Michael's eyes went wide and he asked Emmett to hold on for a moment before lowering the phone to his shoulder, the receiver tucked against the neckline of his tee shirt. "You want to go?"

Justin nodded firmly. Emmett had been nice to Justin since day one. Ted hadn't cared about his existence one way or another, and up until the thing at the prom, Michael had strongly disliked him and made it well known. Emmett had been accepting and friendly from the start. Like Justin imagined Godiva was to Emmett when he first moved away from Mississippi. Not to the same degree of course. But Emmett had been an ally in what was sometimes unfriendly territory.

And Justin didn't think it was right that Emmett should have to box up the memories of the person who taught him what pride was alone. Justin wanted to be there for him if no one else could be.

Michael lifted the phone to his ear, the disbelief evident in his voice. "Justin says he'll go with you." Michael listened to whatever Emmett was saying and then said goodbye. "He said he'll meet you at the hospice in fifteen minutes."

Justin nodded again and turned to put away his painting supplies. And he felt good.

He felt proud.


End file.
